


Severance

by en passant (corinthian)



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's
Genre: Bloodplay, M/M, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-26 16:15:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5011318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corinthian/pseuds/en%20passant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A complicated relationship and a lot of broken promises. Kiryuu and Yuusei's relationship during Team Satisfaction times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Severance

Yuusei doesn’t know that he’s in love with Kiryuu, yet.

Crow ribs him about it, on a lazy afternoon when the team is just — just, for once — hanging out. Kiryuu’s bothering Jack, has him pulled close and is yammering on about territories and leadership and how a single man can change the world. Jack is trying to be impassive, but Crow and Yuusei can tell from the set of his shoulders and of his jaw that he’s thinking, listening and appreciate every single word Kiryuu says, despite himself.

“So, you and Kiryuu.” Crow says.

Yuusei doesn’t say anything, because he’s still looking at Kiryuu and Jack and he’s glad that they’re getting along. He’s glad that Jack is finding himself again, because when they were growing up he was so sure Jack was going to be great but then. Well, Satellite is hard on them all.

“Oi! Yuusei!” Crow nudges him with his shoulder. “Are you even listening? Too lovestruck, huh!”

“What? No.” Yuusei shoves back. 

“Then what were you thinking about? Hmm?” Crow grins, because he thinks he has everything figured out. He thinks Jack’s been in love with Yuusei since they were kids, but they’ve both been too busy proving themselves — Yuusei, because of some weird existential stuff and Jack because it always felt impossible to give someone the world, in Satellite. Crow’s smarter than that, he knows what he likes and it’s moments like these that he likes the best.

“Where we’d be without him.” Yuusei replies and Crow has to sigh and roll his eyes a little. He’s pretty sure they’d still be doing all right, without Kiryuu. It would be different, maybe they wouldn’t be doing as well, but he knows they’d be okay. (He has to believe that, really.)

“Saying he’s changed your life, yeah?” It could be romantic.

“He’s changed my life.” Yuusei is adamant.

Crow looks over to where Jack’s finally shoved Kiryuu away, fuming. He catches sight of the overly wide grin on Kiryuu’s face and has the smallest moment of doubt. But he laughs it off, ruffles Yuusei’s hair, much to the other’s protests.

“Don’t get so sappy! That’s totally not cool.”

“It’s just — Crow, stop it!”

* * *

Kiryuu kisses the side of his mouth, he’s never straightforward. It’s something Yuusei notices, because it feels like Kiryuu is always just about to leave, even when he leans forward and bumps their foreheads together and says, you’re the best, I fucking love you.

They’ve just taken apart a Security car — Kiryuu promises, swears up and down, that it’s abandoned. Yuusei notices that there’s no rust, the seat leather is still shiny and it hasn’t been stripped down, they were the first to touch it. But he trusts Kiryuu, he trusts Kiryuu with his life.

“I love you too,” Yuusei says, eager, but something weighs his words down. It might be the glass on the ground, little beads of bulletproof glass that shattered and scattered after Kiryuu struck the window — seventeen times — with a rock. 

“You get it, you really understand,” Kiryuu murmurs with his teeth pressed against Yuusei’s neck.

Yuusei wants to strip the car and go. But Kiryuu’s arm is around his waist and he’s never been very good at denying Kiryuu anything. Particularly not when Kiryuu is _happy_. There are times when Kiryuu wants to touch Yuusei — touch anyone, really — but he’s unhappy and it shows in the sharpness of his movements and the roughness of his hands. But today is different, it’s a good day and Yuusei wants to savor it.

“You make me feel alive, Yuusei, you and this and that! I couldn’t do this without you.”

Kiryuu’s hand swept out as he speaks. He points to the metal cage that separates the front half of the Security car from the back, towards the degraded Satellite buildings, back towards himself with his fingers settling over his heart.

“I couldn’t do anything without you.” Yuusei is straightforward and for a moment his honesty seems to make Kiryuu hesitate. Then he shrugs it off, as easy as sliding his vest off his shoulders, edging his shirt up too.

“Sure you could. I believe in you,” Kiryuu murmurs. He twines his fingers with Yuusei’s. It’s dead silent in this part of Satellite, no one dares bother the Security car — at least, not for a while. “In the end we only get as far as we push. You understand that, don’t you? And the more we push together, the further we’ll go. That’s the trick of it. Leave no man behind, because we’ll need each other’s strength.”

Yuusei can only nod. He holds onto the moment and the feeling of Kiryuu’s intimacy even when Kiryuu’s thumbs bruise the insides of his thighs and somehow — somehow his bare palms end up against the pavement with the beads of glass digging in. It’s only made worse by the way Kiryuu treasures the pock marks and blood on his hands and knees, kisses the back of his neck and praises him, alternating with crude comments about fucking on the street and fervent promises of forever-loyalty.

He’s in love with Kiryuu and knows it, and it might already be too late.

* * *

It’s not the first time that Kiryuu makes a suggestion and Yuusei isn’t sure about it. But he can’t separate the way his stomach roils and turns over with the way his heart jumps into his throat. It could be anticipation, excitement, anxiety or terror — but he doesn’t know which.

“I think you’d like it, you’re almost blushing, aren’t you?” Kiryuu is cheerful, brushes a thumb across Yuusei’s cheek and with that, wipes away the rest of his doubt.

He wants to say, I like you, but instead Yuusei just nods, leans into Kiryuu’s touch and thinks of how nice it is that they fit together perfectly when Kiryuu wraps an arm around him.

The knife hurts. It burns more when the blade runs over his ribs, even if it doesn’t cut deep and Yuusei can’t help but shiver and flinch away from it. Kiryuu’s mouth trails after the cut, though, presses soft kisses and dragging his tongue in a way that feels even more intimate than sex and Yuusei admits — has to admit — there’s something about it he does like. (But, is it the way Kiryuu looks at him with adoration, even with a tinge of blood on his lips?)

“Just let me know if it’s too much,” Kiryuu is understanding. There’s no chaos to his movements either, everything is practiced and everything is tuned towards Yuusei. No cut is too deep, no touch too hard. For one of the first times in Yuusei’s life, he’s the unfiltered center of someone’s world. It’s so overwhelming it feels like his heart has stopped beating and that Kiryuu can see everything about him, including the dark ugly knot at the core of his existence.

He flinches again, for a different reason and his eyes burn.

“Shhh, I’m here for you.”

Everything breaks. Kiryuu’s breath is too quick, his eyes too wide but his hands are steady and he gathers Yuusei up like he’s the most important thing in the world. Yuusei cries and Kiryuu doesn’t laugh, but there’s a bitter mirth to his voice when he says, “We’re both so alive right now.”

* * *

Kiryuu’s morose and it’s the mood that Yuusei is most afraid of. It’s ironic, in a way, since Kiryuu has far more explosive moods — but most of them are forward-facing. Mania, elation, the itching urge to destroy something that led him to prowl the streets and break anything that crossed his path. Yuusei could stand with him through all of those, try to catch Kiryuu’s fist when he needed someone there — he knows that Kiryuu just needs someone there with him. Support. Trust. Love. Everyone needs that — and that’s what Yuusei can give.

But morose Kiryuu is the worst. He gets still and instead of talking about conquering Satellite, about making their home a better place and being _so alive_ he says:

“I know all the best places in the city to die.”

“This isn’t one of them. No one would see you here. Days would pass by, you might just become a corpse, then nothing. That’s the worst part of it all, isn’t it — dying alone and forgotten.”

“When I go, it’ll be a real show. That’s not how any of us will go! We’re kings of the world here, there’s just one more piece to overtake. One more thing, then I’ll be satisfied.”

Somehow, it’s Kiryuu’s melancholy moods that make his happier ones seem even more dangerous. Possibly, because it’s only when Kiryuu comes out of them that Yuusei realizes, there’s always just one more thing.

* * *

Crow leaves, but only seconds later, so does Jack. Part of Yuusei goes with them — and will always be with them. He reassures Kiryuu, takes his hand with both of his and makes yet another promise. But Yuusei can’t ignore the hollowness in his chest, too much like excitement and too much like fear all at once. He misses Crow and Jack immediately, even when Kiryuu kisses him like a lifeline.

“We don’t need them,” Kiryuu says, but he’s trying to convince himself and Yuusei doesn’t think Kiryuu’s ever looked so alone.

“I’m here for you,” Yuusei knows that he needs Crow and Jack, but that Kiryuu needs him more.

They return to the hideout, which had never been large before but without Crow and Jack it feels desolate. Kiryuu walks the length of the room twice before Yuusei intercepts him.

“It’ll be okay.” He says and when Kiryuu tries to go around him, Yuusei plants himself firmly and grabs Kiryuu by the shoulder. “Kiryuu.”

“Don’t — I know it’ll be fine. I have you! You’ll never leave me!” Kiryuu’s words jumble together, though, and Yuusei thinks — hopes it’s not true — that Kiryuu is trembling when he speaks.

“Kiryuu,” Yuusei says again because he can’t figure out what else to say. He wishes he could ground Kiryuu with his his voice, but Kiryuu looks too far gone, already. Kiryuu stands in the middle of the room looking for support and his eyes pass right over Yuusei. It hurts because Yuusei feels like Kiryuu will never come back.

“I’m here for you, be here with me too,” Yuusei pleads.

“Are you?” Kiryuu asks. Then accuses, “Are you really? When are you going to betray me and leave? How can I trust you?”

So Yuusei shows him. It’s not the way Kiryuu expects it and it’s the first time Yuusei’s ever held a knife to someone else’s skin. It looks far too sharp and feels far too heavy but there’s no missing the way Kiryuu’s eyes slide shut and he relaxes.

“I trust you. This would be a shitty place to die.” He says.

Yuusei’s hands tremble and the first cut he makes across Kiryuu’s chest is jagged and a little too deep and the blood wells up too quickly and he wants to stop but Kiryuu grabs his wrist. “I trust you. We’re here together.” Kiryuu says and his voice is passionate again and Yuusei can believe that they’re going to make it. Everything could be okay, again. (He misses Jack and Crow.)

He can’t kiss in the same way that Kiryuu does, but Yuusei reverently presses his lips to the cuts he makes and says the same promises over and over. The taste of blood sickens him and reminds him of how many people have died in Satellite and of the way Kiryuu looks after a fight — too eager and sharp to be the man Yuusei wants to be with but Kiryuu still hasn’t let go of his wrist.

“We’re here together. You’ll never leave.” Kiryuu affirms until Yuusei’s hands are slick with blood and he can feel it dry on his cheeks and this has to be _too much_ but Kiryuu pulls him in for a desperate embrace. If Yuusei shuts his eyes and ignores the knife in his hand he can imagine that Crow and Jack are in the next room and everything is back to normal.

“I love you.” Yuusei says, tries to imprint the words into Kiryuu.

“Just one more time,” Kiryuu asks.

Yuusei can’t deny him just one more.

* * *

“You know, this isn’t a good place to jump.” Yuusei’s pulled out of his thoughts by someone else. It wasn’t Crow and it isn’t Jack, it was someone he’d never seen before. 

“I wasn’t going to jump.” Yuusei explains, though his eyes are drawn back to the swirl of the river below the bridge. He hadn’t even thought about jumping — instead he had been thinking about the color of the water and if it had always been that color, if the unnatural darkness to it was run off from the factories or hang overs from Zero Reverse, if the water was sanitary or if it was full of human waste and toxic chemicals — he had been wondering, what had he done to make the river this way?

“Good, I see a lot of potential in you.” And, without any care to Yuusei’s personal space, the guy sidled up alongside him and dropped an arm over his shoulders. Somehow the gesture was intimate, familiar, welcoming. Yuusei resisted the urge to lean into it, but he couldn’t help but to relax.  
“Potential?” Yuusei echoeds.

“Let’s see what kind of man you’ll be.”

“What do you mean?” 

“There’s different kinds of people in the world. Not just followers and leaders, but people who can _change_ the world. You ever think about that? We’re not just stuck with the hand we were dealt.” A grin, a sweeping gesture, the kind of laugh that oozed confidence. “Strike back at the world, make change happen.”

Yuusei wants to believe in him, the world becomes a little more solid under his feet just hearing that confidence.

“Kiryuu Kyousuke.”

“Yuusei.”

And that’s how they met.


End file.
